


Constipated

by castiels_angel



Category: Original - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:36:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23424064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castiels_angel/pseuds/castiels_angel
Kudos: 8





	Constipated

Normally my boyfriend wakes up, smokes a cigarette, then takes a lengthy shit, accentuated with soft grunts, like clockwork. So whenever he came back inside and didn’t immediately head for the bathroom, I thought it was odd. As the day wore on, I figured he had some mild constipation and suggested a big spaghetti dinner. Hey, the sauce usually gets me in the bathroom at some point to make a deposit. But I didn’t account for his body, which just held onto everything until we went to bed that night.  
“Hey babe,” I started carefully, “did you take a shit today?”  
He gave me a laugh at my boldness. “No, but I’m about to drink some prune juice and hope for the best.” Sure enough, he returned with a glass of prune juice, sipping it down. Then he lit a cigarette and sat back down next to me. “I hope I can go soon. I’ve got like a rock in my belly.”  
I could imagine, as he was holding in yesterday’s waste and today’s big dinner. “Have you tried?”  
“Tried what, taking a dump?”  
I nodded.  
“I thought I was going to shit twice today. Get in the bathroom at work, sit down, people came in both times. Like saw me going in the stall.” He shook his head. “I just couldn’t go after that.”  
“I bet you will feel so much better. Maybe you should go try,” I suggested.  
He canted his hips up and out came a short whistling fart. “Oh that helped a little. I won’t be able to go til I get some of this gas out of me.”  
“Let it out.” I rubbed his bigger than normal belly, jiggling it slightly.  
“I got one building. Dang, it’s like I can smell the garlic.” He gulped down some air and forced out two consecutive ragged burps.  
I grabbed his gut a little and he rewarded me with a short fart. “I’m gassy and paying for being a glutton,” he commented, slapping his belly and following with a shrill hiccup. “I’m not going to lie, I had ice cream earlier too. This is gonna get rough.” He puffed on his cigarette, which was clearly contributing to his need to void himself. After a moment, he looked at me and towards the bathroom door. “I guess I should try now, before I ruin these boxers.” Another fart, much longer and desperate sounding, alerted me to how badly he needed to go. “You’re getting there,” I commented, noticing his flushed face. “I just couldn’t hold it in,” he said, “I’m so sorry.” Next he crushed his cigarette in the ashtray by him and grimaced as he stood up. “I think I’ll give it the old college try.” Into the bathroom he went, where the door didn’t even close completely. “I haven’t felt a need this bad in a while,” he called through the door. I heard the clink of his belt buckle and I could imagine him dropping his pants to the floor. It was so quiet, I heard a fart echo into the toilet bowl. “I’m going to be here a while,” he announced. “Crack the door open a little more and talk to me.” Strengthened by a moment of boldness, I pulled the door open, to reveal him sitting on the commode, pants bunched around his legs. He had a look of surprise on his face, and he started to rub his belly vigorously. I then closed the door a little bit so it was about halfway open. “You’re- unh-“ he grunted slightly yet the only result was a burst of gas, “sneaky. It’s big and it don’t want to come out.” “Keep rubbing your belly and don’t force it,” I responded. I was on the bed just a few feet from the bathroom and I could hear every detail. “Shit ton of spaghetti is right. I’m about to poop out a brick.” I heard him tap his feet on the floor repeatedly, sighing. I waited for a minute and didn’t hear anything at all so I said, “I bet you’ll feel much better soon.” “Once I get this out of me I will. Oh here we go, maybe...” he trailed off, then a succession of three raunchy farts exploded. “Oh I’m about there. I’m about to explode.” Sure enough, I heard a splash followed by grunting and panting. “It’s a big one. My stomach is killing me and I’m trying to get this out.” I heard loud, desperate farts and he flushed the toilet to try and drown the noise out. “Are you okay in there?” I was getting aroused, the way he was talking to me as he completed this personal business. A nearly orgasmic sigh of relief accompanied with a plop and splash signaled my reason to open the door.


End file.
